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Thoughts 
in the Great 
Northland 


And Other T^oems 


CHARLES 
LEO ABBOTT 


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THOUGHTS IN THE GREAT NORTHLAND 






Thoughts in the 
Great Northland 

And Other Poems 

By 

Charles Leo Abbott 



1924 

THE STRATFORD COMPANY, Publishers 
Boston, Massachusetts 






-^p^ipOO \ 



55 


Copyright, 1924 

The STRATFORD CO., Publishers 
Boston, Mass. 





The Alpine Press, Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 


Dedication 

TO 

THOSE WHO ARE LOVERS 
OF 

NATURE'S beauties. 
CHIEFLY 

MY BELOVED MOTHER 
AND 


JUST PLAIN FOLK 













1 


PREFACE 


These few memories are written and published 
with a hope that they may recall in the minds of 
“just plain folk” some of the supernal beauties of 
created nature. 

In defence of my own taste, let me say that I do 
not expect many to see Nature’s glory as I see it; nor 
do I think there will be found much in this small 
volume of any value to the people, or even creditable 
to myself. 

Events, not controllable, have prevented me from 
seeing with a brighter eye, what otherwise might have 
been depicted in more than a lonely or melancholy 
way. 

With me, love of Nature has been not a purpose, 
but a passion, and the passions cannot be moved at 
will. 

C. L. A. 





. \ 




t 






I 








✓ 











CONTENTS 


PAGE 

To Kitchener.1 

The North Lakes.3 

To Holyrood, Oakville.4 

To General Maude.5 

Back to the Beginning.6 

The Honoured Dead.7 

A New Year’s Wish.8 

Canada . 9 

The Call.11 

Ontario’s Highland Voices.12 

The Star of Gold.14 

Gethsemane.15 

Dreamland.16 

To Blunderbuss.17 

To Eleanor.18 

To Hate.19 

To Winter . 20 

Questions . . . 21 

Fires wept Forests.22 

Thoughts.23 

A Warning.25 

Death.27 

The Voices.28 









Contents 


PAGE 

Thoughts.30 

To B.31 

The Last Heroes.33 

Spirit of Nature.34 

The Answer.35 

Whom Do You Know?.37 

Somewhere.39 

Italia’s Glacier.41 

Gallipoli.42 

Over There.43 

Hindrances.44 

War’s Revelation.45 

The Nameless Thing.47 

A Wish.48 

Heaven.48 

Eventide With Mother.49 

Christmas 1916.51 

April.54 

Peace.56 

The True Fisherman Fishes.57 

A Dying Soldier’s Dream.59 

To My Friends.61 

A Mountain Spring.62 

To B.64 

A Prayer to Nature.65 

A Presence.66 

Springtime.67 










Contents 


PAGE 

Campbellville Falls.68 

To T. D. J. F.70 

Life.71 

A Hymn.72 

“I Saw”.73 

”1 Considered”.74 

I Received Instruction.74 

Little Vales.75 

Cader’s Rock.76 

The Great Lone West.78 

Nature's Spirit.80 

The Goddess.82 

The Cave.83 

The Chief’s Address.84 

The Silences Broken.,86 

Night in the Northlands.89 

To B.91 

Life’s Eternal Beach.92 

Lurgan’s Church.93 

Voices.94 

Teach Me to Die That I May Live ... 95 

The Beaver Valley.97 

Eugenia Falls.99 

Thoughts on Huron’s Beach.101 

The Professor.103 

Retrospect.104 

A Vision.107 

The Angels Reap in Flanders . . . .109 








Contents 


PAGE 

Thoughts of the Northland.110 

Remember Not.112 

The Storm.114 

Lost Trails.116 

Vita Umbratiles.118 

The Snow.119 




Semper Ego Auditor Tantum Ero, 
Nunquamne Reponam 
Satires of Juvenal and Persius. 

If you can add a little say why not: 

As well as William Pitt and Walter Scott. 


" Byton 




✓ 

















Had I not written the verses you care nothing 
about, 

The verses that really delight you had ne’er been 
thought out. 

—Ruckert 

They best can judge a poet’s worth, 
Who oft themselves have known, 

The pangs of a poetic birth, 

By labours of their own. 

—Cow per 









Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO KITCHENER 

Worthy art thou, whom God raised up to see 
A Nation’s need, in days of perils true, 

Who won the hearts of other nations too, 

With Israel’s leader to compared be; 

As Moses won the hearts of Israel’s Sons, 

Leading them forth across the ocean deep, 

And heard’st a voice ring out to forward go 
So thou, Kitchener, did’st likewise win and lead. 
And heardst the voice from out the boundless space, 

Proceed. 

Midst countless murmurings thou both did’st move, 
As days and months of preparation passed, 

By silent thought and sacrifice did'st prove, 

God was thy guide where’er thy lot was cast, 

When thou did’st gaze far out with broader view. 
On yonder valley’s shade, with thine own eyes, 

From Pisgah's top a glimpse thou had'st and true 
Of vaster issues known to “Thee So Wise.” 

And then God took thee, where there are no 

Broken ties; 


[ 1 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


Thy sepulchre no one doth know but God, 

To-day, as Israel then, we mourn thy loss; 

The one we think lies somewhere 'neath the sod. 

The other one the Ocean tides doth toss, 

The one in Moab’s valley hath his grave. 

His work complete so many years ago, 

The other one amid the rock and wave, 

His work still lives, but oh we miss him so. 

And mourn and weep and sigh in memory of the 
brave. 


[ 2 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE NORTH LAKES 

Fringed around by birch and pine, 

Lakes of the great Northlands, 

Gazing alone thy beauty’s mine. 

Walking upon thy strands. 

Thy rocky banks whose waves of stone, 
Roll onward to thy feet, 

Are but a crown in which alone, 

Thou art the Jewels meet. 

Mirrored within thy waves at morn, 
Lakes of the great Northlands, 

What beauteous pictures thou dost form, 
Background of shining sands. 

Sometimes above thy sparkling waves, 

A kingly head doth move, 

A crowned monarch free, that braves, 
Thy bosom for his love. 

Thine are the jewels that I crave, 

Lakes of the great Northlands, 

Thine are the pictures that I save, 

’Mid time’s slow drifting sands. 


[ 3 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO HOLYROOD, OAKVILLE 

Passing through the stately entrance, 
With its ancient cannon balls, 

Set upon the moss grown pillars, 

Of time’s unswept granite walls. 

There the towering pines bow gently, 
Whispering welcome lonely one, 
There about the shadowed pathway. 
Like a sigh a voice speaks on. 

Wandering forward at its bidding, 

By a winding narrow road. 

Through the spreading chestnuts rising, 
Stands the stately Holyrood. 

Holyrood in covered creepers, 

From the old Virginian clime, 

With its ancient clinging memories. 
Footprints in the Sands of Time. 


[ 4 ] 



Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO GENERAL MAUDE 

Once more our thoughts dwell on the name 
Of one whom God sent forth to fame; 
Amid the domes of Allah’s throne 
Was there ever a genius shone 
Like our great hero of Bagdad, 

Or death so gloriously sad? 

Once more the heavy, heavy toll 
Hath called a second Kitchener’s soul 
But though his presence once so bright 
Hath passed forever from our sight 
We will not weep but rather find 
Strength to endure; freedom of mind; 

Out where the golden floods still drift 
Out where the Persian Winds do sift 
Dust of a thousand untrod miles 
Hath borne him hence from desert trials, 
Out where the drops of life will be 
In the Ocean depths of Eternity; 


[ 5 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


BACK TO THE BEGINNING 

Winter into the past must go, 

With its biting frost and swirling snow, 
Into the sepulchre of time, 

Back to the south and north’s decline; 

Back ’neath yon ivy mantled tower, 

Into the sepulchre’s shrouded bower, 

Down with the flood of human clay. 

With cold snowy brow and lips of grey. 

Back from the vale 'neath yonder peak, 
Where the glacier sleeps with whitened feet, 
Back from the vale of joy or tears, 

To a golden glow where Heaven appears; 

Up the slope of yon mountain crests, 

Back where King Winter resides and rests, 
Where ’neath the tower of Zion’s Seer, 

The frosts of destiny disappear. 


[ 6 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE HONOURED DEAD 

We more than trust, we more than hope, 
We pray, the souls’ sincere desire, 

That resting on Mount Zion’s slope, 

They thus, may rest, nor cease nor tire, 
To swell the strain the angels sing, 

While on their graves may lilies spring, 
And perfectly within the wreath, 

Twine thistle, shamrock, rose and heath; 
And pray the angel gathering sheaves, 

Ne’er to forget the maple leaves. 


[ 7 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A NEW YEAR’S WISH 

On the Appian way would I be 
Where musing ’neath the stars 
I might lie beneath some spreading tree 
Or in sacred grove to Mars. 

Mayhap I'd dream of some new race 
Up-rising in the wood 
A sacred race born in this place 
And fed on spiritual food. 

To make an age to this unlike 
A sweeping magical change 
With no shadow or shine of night 
For this Race a wider range. 

A sudden light in the world 

Like the blush of a rose in the mist 
O for this dawn unfurled 
This is the wish I wished. 


[ 8 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


CANADA 

O this is the land, 

Of the cedar and pine, 

O, this is the place, 

Of the peach and the vine; 
Where May flowers blossom, 
In bright beams that shine, 
With a soft holy light. 

In this beautiful clime. 

Where scent laden breezes, 
Oppressed with perfume, 
Waft gently among the 
Pine, cedar and bloom; 

Where the oriole’s notes, 

And the bobolink’s song, 
Floats sweetly from oaks, 

Or the grasses among. 


[ 9 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Where the lakes of the north 
Are jewelled at Eve, 

By the shadows there cast, 

As the sun takes his leave; 
Where the long trek of steel 
Links the East with the West, 
From old Scotia's wild coast, 
To Pacific’s unrest, 

Where Ontario’s lakes, 

Form our great inland seas, 
And our flag waves unfurled, 
In Superior’s breeze; 

Where the blest thousand isles, 
Are a paradise meet. 

For the gods of old Rome, 

Or the Greek Muse’s Seat. 

Where her nature is wild, 

As the waves of the sea, 

And her sons are true, staunch, 
In faith; steady and free; 

’Tis the land of the West, 

’Tis the land of the North, 
And her future we’ll make, 
And then body it forth. 

[ 10 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE CALL 

Canada, in song and story 
Thou hast writ thy deeds of glory; 

They proclaimed from sea to sea 
Shall forever be. 

From the mountains old and snow-capped 
To the rocky coastlines, low capped, 
Sound the young Dominion’s praise, 

High her banners raise. 

Yet again the still small voice cries, 

“What dost thou here? Up, arise,’’ 
Canada, in bright sweet beauty, 

Rise to your duty. 


[ 11 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


ONTARIO’S HIGHLAND VOICES 

I stood beside a streamlet once that murmured o’er 
the vale, 

Which made the reeds and grasses nod that bordered 
on the trail 

And as the sun came o’er the rim and chased away the 
veil 

Ontario’s Highland Voices spake in calm majestic 
living hail. 

The racing rays of fiery light, just pushed away the 
rim 

And chased across my prospect drear, with morning 
battle hymn 

So thus inspired came Virgin thought and wooed me 
with a vim 

Came a note of vastitude, of silences, impressing grim. 

Untraveled paths, suggestive depths and music 
wrought from strings 

Unseen, came tinkling clear and pure, on unresponsive 
wings 


[ 12 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

My soul took up the deeper notes, a full communion 
brings 

Amid these vastitudes, and flowers, and voices of a 
thousand things. 

And nestling down, 'mid tangled vines a rippling 
throated bird 

Trilled out his song, so sweet and long, that I would 
fain have heard 

The summons and the trumpet sound foretold of by 
the Word. 

And rested thus by stream and thrush beneath the 
tree of life preferred. 

The vision that at midnight clear was seen behind 
the known, 

Came not with noonday’s searching light that filled 
the Valley's zone, 

Nor yet as sunset's evening star, climbed up majestic, 
lone. 

But when the spring time stole upon the wintry fields 
and seed was sown. 


[ 13 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE STAR OF GOLD 

Bathed in softening rays behold, 
Borrowed from the golden glow. 
Sink yon evening star of gold 
While the gentle zephyrs blow. 

Golden sands are running out, 
Falling down upon the sun, 

And the colours slowly fade, 

Fainter yet do they become. 

Now the star with silver sway, 
Reigns awhile as King of all, 
Like the golden hair to grey, 

Brighter 'mid the encircling pall, 

Tossed by yonder Huron's wave, 
Star of silver, star of gold, 
Silvering all thy watery grave, 
Thou dost slip within its fold. 


[ 14 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


GETHSEMANE 

East of Kedron’s shadowed valley, 

At a point where two paths meet, 
Leading o’er the Mount of Olives 
Lies Gethsemane's sad seat, 

O'er the rocky vale of Kedron 
At the full of Paschal Moon, 

The peaks threw a cross of shadows, 
Presaging the Master's gloom. 

There were rocks, caverns and grottoes. 
Where a fugitive might flee, 

With a garden house and towers 
But he chose the awful tree. 


[ 15 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


DREAMLAND 

Intensely living in her dream, 

He only on its outer fringe, 

Like golden glowing sunshine's gleam, 
Upon some mountain peak doth tinge, 
The hazy hoary snow clad crown, 
Touched but a sleeping hazy part, 

The outer stillness of her heart. 

Within this dreamland's pulsing hush. 
Hidden in Amethystine Mist, 

From which but jewelled memories flush 
Enshrined there dwells most exquisite 
Sweet pleasures for her Paradise, 

Blent Nature's music, dewy spice, 

Her kiss cast lips of Adonis. 


[ 16 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO BLUNDERBUSS 

Unfeeling for the prey, 
Unsparing day by day. 
Forgiving naught for aye, 
Forgetting ne’er to pay. 

Relentlessly for years, 

At least it so appears, 

Primed well thou had’st no fears, 
O how thy bullet tears. 

Ho! Blunderbuss hast thou, 

A mind to listen how, 

Thy bullet and thy powder 
Thinned thy barrel so? 

Thy master made the lead, 

While thou did’st rest ’tis said, 
And thou wast with it fed, 

Then thou the bullet sped. 

To follow in the chase, 

This thing or that to face 
But now methinks thy place, 
The old shelf is to grace. 

[ 17 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO ELEANOR 

O lily sweet and fair. 

Just peeping at the world. 

Go, teach her now to care, 

Tell her 'mid leafy bowers, 

By thy bright sunny smile, 

The sun dial tells the hours. 

Tell her the precious stone, 

Lies deep within the rock, 

And I am all alone. 

Go, sweet white flower and plead, 
And with thy father's eyes, 

Her heart toward him lead. 

Then come dear Eleanor, 

O, lily sweet and fair. 

And leave me nevermore. 


[ 18 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO HATE 

O, thorn beneath the purple rose, 

O briar amid the hedgerows, 

O serpent warmed within the breast, 

O soul that knowest not to rest. 

O garden seeming wondrous fair, 

Thou shalt be filled with many a tare, 
Cast back upon the promised gain, 

On reaping day all unripe grain. 

O scheming mind what subtle thought, 
What mocking pathos dost thou ape. 
Beware; The sands are running short, 
God sees thy heart, can’st thou escape? 

What footprints in the sands of time, 
Thou hast by hatred left behind, 
Returning memories in decline, 

Shall float and haunt your hateful mind. 


[ 19 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO WINTER 

When days are short, a smaller arch, 
The wintry sun describes, 

And evergreens except the larch, 

A sweet perfume subscribes 

While o’er the fields the sifting snow. 

Like dust between the stubble, 

Goes whirling, eddying, planing, so, 
To the tune of springs that bubble. 

O wintry wind thou art awry, 

To hide the wayside flower, 

And chase the little birds away, 

From out their leafy bower, 

But never so unkind I know 
As she whose heart indeed, 

Is frozen up with winter so, 

She lives to make mine bleed. 


[ 20 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


QUESTIONS 

As the swans and geese went sailing high, 

I asked of the Northland winds that sigh, 

O'er rock and lake and marsh and sky 
“Tell me O Wind, if I shall die?” 

And the soft wind murmuring made reply 
Like the zephyr tones in the pines on high 
“List to the still small voice within 
“Though thy soul be shrouded in flesh and sin. 
“And it will vibrate and make reply 
“No, I am sure I will never die.” 


[ 21 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


FIRESWEPT FORESTS 

Straight and tall before me stand 
Serried ranks above the strand; 
Larch and poplar, spruce and pine 
Mute or whispering entwine; 

Limbs that tremble as they toss 
Weaving from their veils of moss, 
Mirroring in gleam of stream, 
Mystic things of which we dream, 
’Neath my feet; oh, how they leave 
Thoughts that come and oft bereave 
Those whose aspirations die 
Like these trees against the sky, 

Just a fires wept whispering dross 
As these trees encased in moss. 


[ 22 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THOUGHTS 

Oft I have stood in the starlight dim 
Feeling the dews drop down, 

The silent trees in the vale below 
Beneath the mountain’s frown 
Took on strange shapes and visions rose, 
To meet my thoughts and join 
To helping sift the somethings hid 
Like the acid test of the coin. 

I couldn’t be sure that their silent lure, 

So calm, majestic, lone, 

Impelled my steps to seek their depths 
And wander there alone. 

But I felt their calm go over me 
And it stilled my throbbing breast. 
While the laughing note of the loon afloat 
Gave me courage to stand the test. 

I came at last to the waters vast 
And I saw in the placid lake 
A vision of my beloved there 
As I bent my thirst to slake 


[ 23 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

And I paused as her bosom seemed to rise 
Amid the lilies white 
And turned my truant footsteps back, 
Home again, home to the height. 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A WARNING 

Is it just a league of nations 

Just a name and nothing more; — 
Shall we never heed the warning 
Shall we never heal the sore, 
Sapping, sapping, at the life's blood 
Of the European core? 

Have we heard the warning ringing 
Like the trumpet sounds of yore, 
Have we seen the hundreds coming 
From the yellow races’ shore? 

Have we paused as Christian peoples 
Visioning the hundred score, 
Mingling, mingling then returning 
To the land of open door? 

Have ye seen them, Christian Nations, 
Breaking like the dawn to pour 
Floods of new interpretations 
On their ancient books of lore? 


[ 25 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Is it just a league of Nations 
Just a name and nothing more? 
Surely we shall heed the warning 
“Going Forward;" as of yore, 
Through the desert lands to Canaan, 
With the glowing cross before. 


[ 26 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


DEATH 

E’en now they pass, and go away 
Along the bordered way we say, 

Among the flowered paths we think 
And breathe the incensed breeze, they may, 
And as they slowly, slowly sink. 

Comes ne’er a word from o’er the brink. 


[ 27 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE VOICES 

Like the sigh of the gentle breezes 
Wafting a breath from afar 

Stealing across the vision 

From the rim of the furthest star, 

Comes a murmur of Spirit voices 
That only the soul may hear, 

When in tune with the Lord of Creation 
And a sense of the ether sphere; — 

They come from the furthest limits 
Where the Isles of Sapphire gleam; 

They come from the soldier spirits 
Who’ve wakened from life’s dream; 

And over that glistening ocean 
The sapphires and emeralds burn 

Through the ether that veils our vision 
And we find them all in turn. 

For it’s only a beautiful voyage 
Across the ether line, 

That our soldier boys have travelled 
To the land of palm and pine. 

[ 28 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

And it may be the same rich voice 
Or it may be a sigh or a sign, 

Perhaps a place at his table 

Or a walk on the sands of time; 

No matter since we shall know them 
And love them, and roam as of yore, 

And walk o’er the flowery meadows 
And talk of the spirit lore. 

And gather the sparkling jewels 

For the crowns of our soldier boys, 

As we sit on the shores of knowledge, 

With our loves, and our crowns, and our joys. 


[ 29 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THOUGHTS 

Only the wild waves lap the shore 
And what I was I am no more 
Only the bald lone rock for me 
Facing the reddening down at sea 
Where the waves of life roll near the shoal 
And false winds drift me from its goal 
Always the lowering grey mists raise 
Leaving the memories of other days: 

Only the shimmering mist blue haze, 

Only the veil that thinly lays 
Over the paths of Paradise, 

Over the flowers of dewy spice, 

Like tears that blur these eyes of blue, 

Is hiding our gaze from the broader view. 


[ 30 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO B. 

That thou didst vie with nature's face 
Supernal in the burst of spring 
And I in love with both, 

The reason is that now I cling 
To memories of our troth: 

That thou didst heed a selfish mind 
With mocking pathos aped in tears 
And thou in touch with these, 

The hopes of love adown the years, 
Are as yon leafless trees. 

That thou art blind with holden eyes, 
Along life’s winding dusty trail, 
With heart all burning still. 

The reason is the rending veil 
Has yet your life to fill. 

That thou wilt see, I trust, within 
The gallery of thy wounded heart, 
She loves thy child not thee; 

For where the heart is whole and part, 
The priceless treasures be. 

[ 31 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

That thou a part of my lone soul. 
Hast still, I own, ne'er will conceal, 
And waiting still am I 
This night of fate doth but reveal, 
The beauties of the sky. 


[ 32 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE LAST HEROES 

Like the surging waves of a storm that's past, 
Came the dying echoes blast on blast, 

And the distant booms tolled out and rolled 
Like the distant bleats in a peaceful fold, 

When the message flashed from o'er the Rhine. 

And a long lone hush went down the line. 

And we prayed for the last of friend or foe 
As we felt the calm drop down and flow 
O'er fields of life and death and woes. 

We prayed, for the last and lone heroes. 

We gathered the fallen leaves so cold. 

Leaves in the green and orange and gold, 

Till we found the last of the rich red mould; 
And as we laid them down to rest, 

We thought of the mothers' souls oppressed. 

Too late by the breath in the raging night 
Came the aerial waves on their peaceful flight 
So the valley of shadow was filled with light. 
As the last lone booming echo tolled 
The knell of the last lone heroes bold. 


[ 33 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


SPIRIT OF NATURE 

Spirit of Nature, dost thou know 
What thoughts, what aspirations flow 
Around thy glowing altar’s fire, 

Before Death's Angel led them higher,— 
Twixt souls that linger on thy breast 
Ere crosses mark their shrine of rest? 

Spirit of Nature, what is this 
That marks thy sacred reign of bliss? 

Is’t some vast phantom spirit host 
With greater power; and hast thou lost 
The mellowed sweetness of thy face 
To some vastly superior race? 

Dost thou not see the sands of Life 
Are drifting on the homeward shoal? 

And dost thou feel yon bitter strife 
That crimsons many a poppied knoll? 

And canst thou breathe an incensed prayer 
For those so calm, majestic, fair? 

Then from somewhere among the crosses down the 
vale, they heard the answer: 

[ 34 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


The Answer 

Yea, I have heard and sobbed, “How sad!" 
Yea, I have known what thoughts they had; 
And if you’ll wander down the stream 
Where roses bloom and lilies gleam, 

Go through the woods and perfumed glens 
And wander o'er the moors and fens; 

In all the beauty thou dost find, 

In all the sweetness on the wind; 

Through all the myriad whisperings thrown 
About the tangled spaces blown, 

You’ll see and taste, and hear me tell 
Of all the boys you loved so well; 

For nothing’s lost, and in the spring 
You’ll hear all nature whispering. 

Yea, I have seen where violets grew 
Between the grasses running through 
My loveliest face all marred and rent. 

My flowery bosom shorn and spent. 

But I will come again and bloom 
Amid the crosses and the gloom. 

I have not lost my power to strew 
The graves with violets running through. 

[ 35 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Yea I have seen the waves roll high. 
Have felt its crimsoned weight so nigh; 
And from some group of violets there 
Have cast my sweetest incensed prayer 
Across the vast expanse of blue, 

A breath for every son so true. 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


WHOM DO YOU KNOW? 

Time with its gilding powers 

Will place us; if merit upheld, should seek 

To gather bright golden hours 

And bank them; be humble and meek. 

But ever the world in its fastness 

Shall reap, and again shall it sow, 

Tares upon tares midst its vastness, 

Ask of you, “Whom do you know?” 

Apisthographi jumbled, and typed 
In Senate and pulpit and hall, 

By many an interesting biped 
Is shuffled and read at the call. 

And a satisfied throng with its clatter 
Of hands and feet and a show. 

File out at the close of the matter, 

And ask again, “Whom do you know?” 

Of these we aspiring poor mortals 
Must seek our appointment and place, 
And enter within their deep portals 
With fear and deportment of Grace. 


[ 37 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

And we pour out our story and soul 
Our hopes, and our fitness, and oh, jesting 
From over the desk comes the dole questing. 
Ahem and a—“Whom do you know?" 


[ 38 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


SOMEWHERE 

A name out there in France 
Where mad horses scream and prance 
A place in the thought 
A scene to be bought 
The trail with a lure 

Where Eternity's gate stands ajar next door. 

The mysterious dream with a spell 
That holds the world in its hell 
A message in time 
From a distant clime 
At the gates of toll 

A gleam beyond the reaches of the soul. 

A veil that shrouds the known 
From imagination’s throne 
A world’s real nightmare 
On earth and in air 
Individual 

A fevered oasis of pain and pall. 


[ 39 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

A grey glittering sea 
Where the waves roll horribly 
A bosom white tossed 
Stern destinies frost 
Calm, majestic, lone 

All else around, above, a thunderous, moan. 

A blizzard spouting death 
Fond memory's moaning breath 
A burdened sigh in flight 
Night of ages sight; 

Dawn, a grave, out there, 

And peace, sometime, someday, somewhen, 
somewhere. 


[ 40 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


ITALIA’S GLACIER 

Mantling immensity it towers sublime, 

Snow's fair eternal palace built by time, 

Whose pages of a thousand years compiled. 

A book deep bound, a library of the sky, 
Whose every leaf that falls doth firmly bind 
The clay, the blood of noble sons who find 
The long lone sleep till advent trumpet peals 
When He that worthy is, shall loose the seals. 


[ 41 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


GALLIPOLI 

While the double gifted council 
Slowly wise and meanly just 
To our buried heroes' merit 
Vote to raise a tardy bust, 

Yet the wrongs to sad Australia 
Slowly wise mean just ones laid 
At our loved Kitchener's table 
Gone our heroes' sacred shade. 

Not the first nor last great nation 
To imagine posthumous 
Homage, rightly compensation 
For the life he gave for us. 

Oh the rocky, rocky seashores 
Rising round the Golden Horn 
Oh the gallant hundred thousand 
Passed to greet the golden morn. 


[ 42 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


OVER THERE 

What dusky creepings fold about, 

The entrenched host, 

Sitting in darkness, where the shadows cast 
Dim shapes of death, 

Faithful and true avengers of 
The Wrath Divine, 

Upon yon bitter watchful foe, still drunk 
But not with wine, 

Whose bloody footprints in the rich 
Red mould of France, 

Have left an aching void, a shell-torn 
Vast expanse; 

These hear no Gospel sound, for it 
Is ill to know. 

What vaster issues flow, beyond 
Law’s earthly bound; 

O ye dim distant spires, ye crumbling 
Naves and walls, 

O’er garlanded anew, with 
Clinging ivy through. 

Mutely thou stand'st to show. 

The ravage of the foe. 

m 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


HINDRANCES 

Sometimes a vision may early gild 
The call to the harvest shower, 

But the glory be marred by those in power 
And the wells of our progress be filled. 

And still ’mid the weary and travel stained, 
Who are wending the trail of life, 

Out where the power of envy is not chained, 

We must drink of the waters of strife. 

For the herdmen of Gerar are still in the vale 
And the fruits of our labour seem lost, 

But the labour of love! What matter the cost? 
If the fountain of Esek ne’er fail. 

Let us move down the trail to humility’s vale 
For the waters of Sitna to strive. 

If we fight to do well, we must prevail 
At the well of Rehoboth arrive. 

Rehoboth, Rehoboth, the Lord hath made room 
Is the song we shall hear on the road, 

When the Spirit of Envy is wound off the loom, 
And the Testament changes the load. 

[ 44 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


WAR’S REVELATION 

Silent mysteries floating skyward, 
Truth revealed for us to know, 

In the night of time a byword 
To the races high and low, 

Known to Angels them unfurled 
In the morning of the world, 

Thus they came and now they cross 
As a cycle of Saros. 

Now in silence inward groaning, 

We suppress, then kneel to pray, 
Tears that start within the gloaming 
At the close of each sad day, 

Souls are these that feel a stealing 
Like to that within the bones, 

For the Nation's wondrous healing 
Leaves are falling round the thrones. 


[ 45 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Light and darkness long duration, 
Ormuzd and Ahriman, 

’Twixt the double federation, 

For the prize the soul of man. 

Revelation, Revelation, 

Lightens darker paths than these 
Which beset each sinful nation 
Brings the world upon her knees. 


[461 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE NAMELESS THING 

Was't some sweet woman fringed thy life's long way 
A thousand untrod miles to searching light of day? 
An age old silence, unresponsive role 
That lost thee in the mazes of the world's own soul? 
Was't rousing music, food of love, that played, 

Some long lost chord, and thus thy love betrayed? 
Didst love leave winter stranded in thy breast, 

Or was't some word of ill content let fall in jest? 

Was't love unanswered made the well of life 
A bitter spring; a stone in some sweet fruit the strife? 
That caused thy bosom thus to heave up tears, 

Like springs that gush from nature’s pulsing mountain 
tiers? 

Was't thoughts beyond the reaches of thy soul, 
Which came from out the void, that made thee pay 
such toll? 

Or was't the actions of the seeming just, 

Which smelled so sweet, yet cast thine honor in the 
dust? 


[ 47 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A WISH 

Drop a line on the waves of time, 

And a thought on the winds for me; 
In the ether a wish sublime 

For I’m lone on life’s stormy sea. 


HEAVEN 

Where the crumbs of life from the Paradise tree 
For the maze of glorified souls so free. 

In the shimmering waves of eternity. 

Will be good enough for me. 


[ 48 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


EVENTIDE WITH MOTHER 

In the gloaming, mind a roaming, 

Just at twilight, cold and drear, 

Fell across the darkening landscape, 
Nature’s veiling, calm and clear. 

Leaving only in the stillness, 

Just a presence one could feel, 

And the world resigned to even. 

Closed the day; and set, the seal. 

In the rays of flickering firelight, 
Where the shadows deepest are, 

I can see a face that hovers, 

See it smiling from afar. 

And the firelight lends a colour, 

And I see the glowing cheeks. 

Like the roseate hues of morning, 
Tinting yon far distant peaks. 

Ever near within the circle, 

Where the waves of dancing light. 
Cast about the opened doorway, 
Stands the altar of the night. 


[ 49 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

And there floats another altar, 

Where one stood so long ago. 

Sweetly murmuring, gently whisp’ring, 

In love’s firelight, face aglow. 

Though the days may be for better, 

Though the times may bring us wealth, 
Still again though worse and poorer, 

Or in sickness, or in health; 

I will love thee, I will cherish, 

I will hold thee, and obey, 

And my troth I give, that nothing, 

Shall us part, but death’s dark day. 

And the altar shone a moment, 

In the dying firelight’s glow. 

And beside the other altar, 

Knelt a mother, bowed and low. 

Then she rose and to me whispered, 

“One by one the ropes may break, 

“But love’s anchor, holds forever, 
“Mother’s love can nothing shake.” 


[ 50 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


CHRISTMAS 1916 

Minist’ring spirits from heaven’s fair land, 
Their duties still fulfill. 

And watching o’er the sea and strand, 
Proclaim His Sovereign will. 

And when the year is growing old. 

In beauty well arrayed, 

Are joined by thronging hosts and bold. 
Whose song shall never fade. 

Their leader Joy some throng around, 
And sing of joy and love, 

Good will to men on earth be found, 

As in the Courts above. 

But why around Death’s angel fly, 

With faces veiled in mist, 

A numerous throng with sigh on sigh, 
As though they death had kissed? 

So joy’s sweet host did haste to ask, 

And quickly round them throng, 

As sorrow’s host came from their task, 
The weeping souls among. 


[ 51 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

And having poised themselves in place, 

In consultation wise. 

Up from their midst a little space, 

Did Sorrow haste to rise. 

Who to their anxious questioning, 

A tale of wondrous woe, 

Unfolded to their listening, 

Of strivings foe with foe. 

Of broken hearts and faces pale, 

Of mother's hair once burnished gold, 
Now snowy white; of fathers frail, 

Once hail and strong, now worn and old. 

Here sorrow moved their counsel end, 

So all the angel host did on 
Their way through Paradise to wend, 
These newer souls to look upon. 

And as they gained its topmost height. 

From its paths an incense drifted, 

And music blent with dewy spice, 

Their sorrowing souls uplifted. 


[ 52 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

For clear above those lovely chords, 

They heard the answer ringing, 

“They rest in peace which heaven affords, 
“As leaves they fall from the tree of life, 
“To heal the nations in their strife” 

The angel of Light was singing. 


[ 53 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


APRIL 

The turn of the icy tide. 

And the lord of winter died. 

The cold green glittering caverns 
Are melting in the north 
The door of Nature's open now 
To welcome springtime forth. 

Comes the warm and welcome wind, 
Rushing south balm to unbind 
Mighty rivers, little streams 
Wakening from icy dreams, 

Over vale and hill and lake 
Stirring buds, and bulbs and brake. 

Whirling through the balmy air, 
Changing green the bleak and bare, 
And the cows at barnyard gate 
Impatient, interrogate. 

They would be in pastures green 
Where the creek winds sweet and clean. 


[ 54 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

In the woods the song bird trills, 
Wild ducks splash in sunny rills, 
And the scurrying little chipmunk, 
Scampers up a broken tree trunk, 
While the squirrel chatters long, 
Peeping from the firs among. 

All things give a springtime greeting. 
Songs and breezes, flowers, bouquets, 
In remembrance of our meeting, 

As we journey on life’s ways. 

And the sunshine and the gladness 
Making all things sweet and clean, 
Banishes our care and sadness, 

Spring has come for Seventeen. 


[ 55 ] 




Thoughts in the Great Northland 


PEACE 

Upon the Western front within, 

The precincts of the Rhine, 

A solemn hush replaced the din, 

Where blood had flowed like wine. 

The puffs of smoke cloud floated off, 
Across the shattered woods, 

Ten thousand guns had ceased to cough, 
The river ran in floods. 

Adown the forest wreck was shed, 

Alike on khaki, grey, 

E'en out among the silent dead, 

The russet golden day. 

But when the hour of midnight came, 

And moon rose pale and wan, 

Without the peaceful camp fires’ flame, 
There rolled a soothing strain. 

Piercing, sweet to living, dying, 

Rose a chant upon the night, 

Echoes, echoes, sighing, sighing, 

“Home sweet Home” and fireside bright. 

[ 56 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE TRUE FISHERMAN FISHES 

Not alone for the fish that rise, 

And the splash and the tug on the line, 
Nor I’m sure for the lies and flies, 

But just for a smell o’ the pine. 

Not alone for the flowers that bloom, 

On the bush or the banks of the stream, 
Nor I wean for the lilies’ gleam, 

But just for to scatter the gloom. 

Not alone for the songs of the birds, 

And the music of swift rushing streams, 
Nor it seems for the noon day beams 
But just for to see knee deep herds. 

Not alone for the bird that says, 

You won’t catch a fish there, I’m certain, 
Nor to laze in a dreamy haze, 

But just to lift friendship’s curtain. 

Not alone for the grasses blown. 

By the gentle cool zephyrs in waves, 

Nor the caves where the water laves, 

But just for the love o’ the lone. 


[ 57 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Not alone for moss covered stone, 

And the creepers that hang o’er the brink. 
Nor I think to find nature’s link. 

But just for to feel God’s your own. 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A DYING SOLDIER’S DREAM 

A soldier's soul went seeking love. 

Where Satan's host was found. 

In a land where time and tide were not, 

And the sands of life were bound; 

But he found it not where life ne’er knew, 

The ebb of the tide or death's cold dew, 

For there a hate in bosoms dwelt, 

Who knew not love, nor conscience felt. 

This lonely soul from the land of hate. 

Came forth to the earth's cool shade, 

And by a murmuring streamlet sate, 

As it sang 'mid leafy glade, 

And he touched the pulse of the love that lives, 
And the chords of her harp did sound, 

When he worshipped God for the flowers he gives. 
And for peace in the shade he found. 

Then he gazed far out with broader view, 

From nature’s flowers of every hue, 

To the golden glow of an eve in Spring 
And a presence felt around him cling, 

[ 59 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

As a golden harp seemed stretched on high, 
From yonder mount beyond the sky, 

And gently o'er its strings did move, 

A hand that touched the chords of love. 

A river pure of water of life, 

Flowed out from that mountain throne, 

And on its wave it bore a chord, 

From heaven’s own harp touched by our Lord 
The music down in softness rolled, 

As upward through the streets of gold, 

A passing soul went at His call, 

And gently from the Tree of Life, 

To heal the nations in their strife. 

Another leaf was seen to fall. 


[ 60 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO MY FRIENDS 

Just a little friendly greeting, 
Nature's lovely, sweet, bouquet, 
In remembrance of our meeting, 

As we journeyed on life’s way. 

Just a few of memory's fleeting 
Pictures shrined within the soul, 
Trusting they may banish greeting, 
Ere the breaking of the bowl. 


[ 61 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A MOUNTAIN SPRING 

Where the rocks in grandeur speak, 
Nature’s guttus* forth doth leak, 
Drop by drop into the creek; 
Where the mosses cling, 

The sword ferns spring, 

And the echoes ring. 

Where the clinging lichens grow, 
And the golden stone crops glow, 
Through the aged years and slow; 
Rocky tablets old, 

The creepers fold, 

Written message bold. 

Where the Sinusf hanging o’er 
Bosom of the waterfall, 

Bathes in the shining skein; 

And the basin steep, 

With whitened feet, 

Where the limestones sleep. 

* Guttus, a cruse, 
t Sinus, part of the toga or dress 

[ 62 ] 



Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Where the shades are brown and green, 
Still untouched by Winters’ spleen, 
Distant springtime there doth seem; 
Native beauty there, 

The arts doth spare, 

Aquinam spot fair. 


[ 63 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO B. 

How short was my dream 
Of the fairest dear maid, 

She was only a gleam. 

For her beauty must fade; 

Though Nature be wild 
As the waves of the sea 
Her beauty is glory 
Is fadeless and free. 

For e’er in the springtime 
She bursts forth anew. 

But thou of my dreamland, 
Your glories are blew; 

O fair sunny Nature 
How fragrant and whole, 
Thy fadeless dear memories 
That fall on the soul. 


[ 64 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A PRAYER TO NATURE 

Gold, gold, gold, falling in dust at eve, 

Why do thy fading shades, a dreary darkness leave, 
Stay O, stay, that we may gather powers, 

To tide us o’er the night and meet the darker hours. 

Break, break, break, O rosy fingered dawn, 

Disperse night’s dewy webs and usher in the morn. 
One by one the heartaches of the years, 

Evaporate, dissolve in space, dispel our fears. 

Mist, mist, mist, O, lift thy morning shroud, 

That underneath thy scented breath and lifting cloud, 
Ray by ray, may reddening softness creep, 

With ever changing radiance; ’long life’s grassy sweep. 

Time, time, time, give back the golden glow, 

Before life’s eventide, descends to lay us low, 

Tide O, Tide, reveal some Kubla Khan, 

Where we may rest awhile, then live again and plan. 


[ 65 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A PRESENCE 

To Capt. C. M. Carbert , M. C. R. F. C. 
Campbellville, Ont. 

As some spring wind about the street, 

Brings Paradisial odours sweet, 

From flowers that in the woodlands rear 
Their fragrant heads and petals clear, 

So we e’er feel his presence near, 

As mellowed sweetness calm yet fleet, 

Within the pathway of the tear. 

His footfall 'long the narrow path, 

That leads across the cottage lawn, 

Will ne’er as other days it hath, 

Cross o’er the threshold of our home, 

It treads so softly in the distant land, 

And yet it lingers, lingers, close at hand, 

As some sweet perfume clings about the room. 


[ 66 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


SPRINGTIME 

Springtime is stealthily, stealthily, creeping 
Into the palace of winter is seeping, 

Soft are the winds and winter is fleeting 

Upon the steep slopes of the mountains retreating. 


[ 67 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


CAMPBELLVILLE FALLS 

Ancients talked of Aganippe, 

Sacred to the numerous muses, 

Pulsing 'neath Mount Helicon, 

And another Mississippi, 

For his inspiration chooses, 

Aganippe, Helikonf. 

But of all the fountains bursting, 

I have seen from mounts pulsating, 

Falls of Campbellville are best, 

None who to these falls come thirsting, 
When the hermit thrush is gating. 

But may feel by muses blest; 

There I seemed to feel the ichor*, 

Flow with vigor through my veins, 
Thought I saw creation change, 

Power seemed given me to cipher, 

Why Creation is bound in chains, 

From the vale to mountain range; 

t Helikon, Greek for as old as, or as big as. 

* Ichor, the ethereal juice that flowed in the veins of the Gods, 
not blood. 


[ 68 ] 



Thoughts in the Great Northland 

There I saw adown a mountain, 

Like the blood in wars of old, 

Fall the wine the muses drink, 

Foaming from a crystal fountain, 
Splashing ’mid rocks of unwrought gold, 
Sparkling, flowing to the brink; 

Hollowed out of solid marble, 
Dropping headlong in the basin. 

Of a huge cavernous hole, 

There the sacred birds did warble, 

There I saw the muses hasten, 

Pledge and drink the flowing bowl. 
Pledge the warring nations’ peace, 

In the not dim distant mists. 


[ 69 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO T. D. J. F. 

O friendly fisherman and bard, 

How oft we trod o'er mossy sward, 
Beside the little springs and streams, 
Meandering where lily gleams, 

Mingle beaver meadows' browns, 

With a golden glow of crowns. 

Can we forget those sunny spots, 

The water rose that sweetly dots, 

The rivers’ weedy, reedy, bank, 

Where the sphagnum's deep and dank; 
Or the lusty trout that rise, 

In the pool, to silvery flies? 


[ 70 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


LIFE 

Life is not a round of laughter, 

Seeking pleasures evermore, 

Life is reaching out and after, 

That which lies on the golden shore, 

Life is an eternal Eden, 

Where perfected souls are flown, 

Not an earthly, worldly Eden, 

Where in hatred tares are sown. 

Life is giving up more pleasure, 

More of Christ and less of strife, 
Letting go our earthly treasure, 

Drinking deep from the well of life. 


[ 71 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A HYMN 

Come to me Breath of God Most High 
In the soft whisp’ring winds that sigh 
Mid fiow’rs that in the woodlands rear 
Their fragrant heads and petals clear. 

That from Thy Paradisial flow'rs 
Some drops of fragrant dewy spice 
May, falling from sweet incensed bow’rs 
Prepare my soul for Paradise. 

Come not in that swift rush which brings 
An empty place ’mid worldly things 
But coming, hover o'er my soul 
When false trails lure me from life’s goal. 

Come Thou with richest blessings near 
When most I need Thy presence here 
Come gently, softly, Holy Dove 
When false winds drift me from Thy Love. 


[ 72 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


( T SAW’ 

I saw a lovely table smooth, 

It was an up to date, 

Within a lovely mansion by, 

The road that leads to fate, 

And saw in beauty well arrayed, 

A tree beside the moat, 

A perfect specimen it seemed, 

Decked out in greenest coat. 

I saw a perfect spreading oak, 
Outside a cottage door, 

I knew a crippled lady dwelt, 
Within that hamlet poor, 

This perfect spreading oak had long, 
Been spared among the rest, 

This little lady long had prayed, 
She was beloved and blest. 


[ 73 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


“l CONSIDERED” 

This lovely table was veneer, 

And rough beneath its part, 

This oak that shone so bright and green 
Was rotten at the heart. 

This table polished bright and clear, 

It was the latest fad, 

This tree that shone so bright and green, 
Was but with ivy clad. 


I RECEIVED INSTRUCTION 

Our lives are lived the latest way, 

And polished smooth our tongue, 
Our morals rotten at the core, 

God’s praise is lesser sung; 

But some there are, a remnant left, 
Who like this spreading oak, 

With hearts of oak are rough without. 
And mainly just plain folk. 


[ 74 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


LITTLE VALES 

Each little vale a sweet perfume distills, 

From pine and cedar, balsam, wayside flowers, 

Beside the shady rills, so sweetly trills, 

Each little bird amid the leafy bow’rs, 

Each little vale a perfume all its own, 

Distills in dewy drops that fall so still, 

Each little rill while tossing down the hill, 
Evaporates an incense o’er the lone. 

Each little breeze with heavy laden breath, 

A sweeter perfume wafts adown the stream, 

Each deep dawn breath and sun’s warm gentle gleam, 
Healing the wanderers, like waters of old Lethe. 


[ 75 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


CADER'S ROCK 

Cataracts roar on old Cambria’s shore, 
Moan and hush, splash and roar, 
Recede, return, evermore, 

An eternal pulse, and eternal roar, 

Tumbled rocks on old Cambria’s coast, 
Lapped by the tide, a mighty host, 
Distant, echoes along the sands, 
Sparkling wavelets, golden strands. 

Cader’s rock looms now in sight. 
Loosed again by the tide’s great might, 
And a youth and maiden gasp, 

We have won the rock at last. 

But the booming thunders roaming, 
Dash the waves about them foaming, 
Cader’s rock is climbed at last, 

And the tide is coming fast, 

Tidal impulse moves the sea, 

From wavelets’ top to ocean’s floor, 
Rising waters, now they flee, 

But sink below, mid cataracts’ roar. 


[ 76 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Hu-sh-sh, thus saith the wave. 

Cease to repine, be brave, 

Death’s tidal impulse moves the soul, 
From ocean's depths, to ocean's goal. 


[ 77 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE GREAT LONE WEST 

Where summer suns are ripening, 

The wheat upon the plains, 

And fields to yellow heightening; 
The trails are only lanes, 

Amid the changing green and gold, 
Winding thro' the harvest fold. 

But way beyond the farthest grain, 
Away beyond the stretching plain, 
Rising, towering, we behold, 

Mount Sir Donald, hoar and old. 

O, King of all the Selkirk range, 

Thy icy crest shall know no change, 
Thy hoary frosted snowy steep, 

Shall in hazy glory sleep. 

Through the twilight shadows’ maze, 
Bluer is thy shroud of haze, 

Sweet and cool beneath thy frown, 
Are the breezes wafted down. 

And the twilight slowly fades. 
Darkness falls about thy glades, 

But thy peak a jewel seems, 

In the sun’s fast dying gleams. 


[ 78 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Ere the sun has gone to rest, 

Harvest moon hath topped thy crest, 
And I hear the coyote call, 

Echoes ringing over all 
While through the more silent night, 
Thou dost reign with crown of white, 
And when morn hath dawned again. 
Sweeter breezes float amain, 

Where the falling waters drown, 
Leaping foaming from thy crown, 
Songs of birds and beasts that call 
Drinking 'neath thy waterfall; 

And across a distant vale, 

Little falls, a silvery trail, 

Leave upon thy rugged breast, 

Vainly chasing foam with zest; 

Here the ringing echoing calls, 

Speak to all of waterfalls. 


O, the green and the brown of the forest, 
And the strength of Eternal hills, 

And the pools below where the waters flow, 
Thy sons O great Canada, thrills. 

[ 79 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


NATURE'S SPIRIT 

An echo of Indian chanting, 

The link of a spirit bond 
The poles of a thousand totems 

Carved, with the thoughts beyond 

The red man’s quest for the secret, 

In vale or wind or sky, 

The white man called him a heathen. 

But someday he’ll give him the lie. 

Egeria’s vale without the Capenian gate, 

Diana’s grove that fringed the hallowed way, 
Where Numa interviewed his nymph in state 
Beside Egeria’s cooling fountain spray;— 

From all since but supernal made by art, 

Eugenia in native beauty stands apart. 

E'en though a king received from Camenae 
Instructive forms of worship worn and old. 

Beside thy marble basin’s tuneful lay; 

E’en though thou’rt decked with ornaments of gold 
What are thy trappings or thy secrets spell? 

Eugenia's Indian spirits whispering likewise tell. 


[ 80 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

What luring message comes upon the breeze! 

What vision rises from yon spring beneath the 
trees! 

What Indian chief here stands in stately mien! 

What sweet fair goddess walks upon the scene! 

See how the warriors stand with holden eyes 
And burning hearts the while as whispering voices 
rise. 


[ 81 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


The Goddess 

“I cannot rest, O Chief, by stream or vale, 

Until your spirit love hath touched with mine, 
Strong son of nature taste by tangled shale 
The spirit love that falls on lives like Thine, 

Come drink the perfumes and the thousand sweets, 
That Nature’s Spirit wind wafts down her mellowed 
streets. 

Come see the shrine, come take thy solemn vow, 

And coming let yon fountain cleanse; and live 
Come let the Spirit goddess cool thy brow, 

Come feel the lingering touch my lips can give, 
Come feel my presence in your very soul 
Strong heart beat strong on mine ’neath yonder totem 
pole.” 


[821 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


The Cave 

Now native music tinkles clear of tone. 

As 'neath the spray they enter in a cave, 

All gleaming white with carbonated stone; 

The goddess mounts the totem shrouded nave 
And bids the chieftain learn, the rites profound, 

Sweet native chants; and view the happy hunting 
ground. 


[ 83 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


The Chief's Address 

O trusty warrior band, o’er yonder brink 
The sweetest maiden and the most desired 
A living sacrifice; must ever link 

Our thoughts with spirit music lately lyred 
Within yon cave beneath Eugenia's spray 
Where I have felt a spirit's love today; 

And ever so the Indians do say 

A spirit goddess rises from the mist 
That floats above the river’s winding way 
Where one great chief the spirit goddess kissed 
And worshipped at the totem shrouded nave 
And learned the rites profound within her throned 
cave. 

E'en now farewell, goddess Eugenia, 

Farewell till other voices sing thy praise 
As many voiced as Iphigenia 
In Greece's old Euripidian lays, 

Fair, sweeter far than this foaming fall is, 

Beloved as Iphigenia in Aulis. 

[ 84 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

An echo of Indian chanting, 

The link of a spirit bond 
The poles of a thousand totems 
Carved, with the thoughts beyond. 

The red man's quest for the secret, 

In vale or wind or sky, 

The white man called him a heathen, 

But someday he’ll give him the lie. 


[ 85 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE SILENCES BROKEN 

A silent river floweth softly on 
Amid the silences of wooded vales 
Away beyond the verge of trodden trails, 

Where neither birds of Paradise nor winds 
Break the long peace of Northland dreams, 

But silent flit and silent breathe 
Where nature’s virgin state doth still 
Obedient to God's spiritual law of time. 

Produce a little heaven in Northland clime. 

There once methought I found true rest, 

In contemplations silent and alone 

Upon the spiritual law within the flowers 

At work within those watered woods;—and yet 

How silent and unknown to me before 
This limit, where God’s silences are met; 

And as I wandered where the waves of wooded light, 
Cast green and pale their radiance on my sight, 

[ 86 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

I saw a silent pool so still and blue 

That heaven and true peace seemed coming through 

From out its amethystine depths toward 

The lilies white and pink, the flags upon the sward. 

And in the distant vast expanse of green 
Methought sweet nature’s face and form serene. 
With welcome, stood in silent sweet repose; 

Decked in snowy lilies, gathered, freshly sweet 

With God’s own perfume; heaven's eternal link 
’Twixt man and lilies, Christ found true and meet 
To teach him earthly glories gleam and fade and fleet. 
’Twas here methought she gave one sigh, 

That brake the silences of wood and pool; 

And nestling in her bosom there, she bent 
Her lilied head; and rich red lips so full 
Of that true love, which is heaven’s perfect lay 

Touched mine in purity and thrilled me through. 

So sweet that could such love be true, 

I'd soon forget that love which fringes now life’s way, 
And gazing there into her eyes so blue, 

Methought I saw true peace come welling through. 

I feel God sent his Spirit goddess down, 

To take away the pain and smooth the frown 
Unanswered love had left; to give sweet hours, 


[ 87 ] 




Thoughts in the Great Northland 

His great eternal lessons from the flowers. 

So fully sweet in beauty well arrayed, 
Because His Spiritual law they have obeyed. 


[ 88 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


NIGHT IN THE NORTHLANDS 

The last doubtful streak of a faded day, 

A thin white crescent trailing the white pines, 

Ridges of rock and the Georgian Bay, 

Night, a little cloudy, my spirit undermines. 

I found that which I sought,—The Northland air, 
And thee Silence, twin ruler with dusk night. 

No need O God to ask if thou art might. 

For thou O Silent might doth answer there, 

Where the rock lies mute, and the pines stand dumb, 
And the long felt thoughts in silence readily come. 

O there is sweet rest in the great Northland, 

By her jewelled lakes and her rocky strand, 

’Neath the peeping twins and Orion great, 

While Canopus stands at the golden gate. 

Rest for the mind and a food for the soul 
Steps, thoughts, that are nearer the ideal goal. 

Where the space grows dark, and the stars grow 
bright, 

With the meaning change of a real midnight 
And the wolf’s tail waits, ’neath the darkened rim 
As if loth to dispel soft night’s calm and its vim. 


[ 89 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

The night air freshens, it blows from the east. 

And silence reigns still, upon man and beast, 

The air grows cooler, the moon trails over, 

The brightened spot on the bay's calm deep. 
While I see the planet of my lover, 

A silver drop; above the rock doth leap, 

A faint halo, first harbinger of dawn; 

The sun mounts up, his rendezvous to keep, 

Alas, twin silent night, thou must away to sleep. 


[ 90 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TO B. 

Sometimes when evening shadows 
Drop down; and autumn winds 
Turn every flower and leaflet 
To russet golden browns, 

By every silent pathway 
Your feet may roam at e’en 
Remembrance still will sadden 
The gloaming of your dream. 

And when the roseate dawning 
Shall meet your clearer sight 
The curtain mists shall linger, 
And tears shall dim the light. 
Turning your joyous visions 
Paining your heart and mind. 
Leaving infinite longings, 

Calling for ties that bind. 


[ 91 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


LIFE'S ETERNAL BEACH 

Where the saltest waters roll. 

And the freshest breezes blow 
Where unwearied breakers toll 
Every second as we go. 

Till we reach the coasts of time 
Where the sands have come to rest 
Far immortal than the clime 
E'en of Araby the Blest. 

There the Soul goes out a roaming, 
The eternal hills of God. 

Life calls it but the gloaming 
And death calls it Ichabod. 


[ 92 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


LURGAN'S CHURCH 

Down in Lurgan's wind swept hills, 

With its rivulets and rills 

Where the waters of the Pine flow gently down, 

There's a little neat church yard. 

Round the church upon the sward, 

On the sands of Huron’s many banks of brown. 

Here we read the names of those, 

'Neath the fragrance of the rose. 

Graven in the time mossed tablets old and grey, 
Who in hardship through the years, 

With their many hopes and fears, 

Struggled hard within the sound of Huron’s spray. 

They have walked “The Shadow Trail/' 

Some so young and others frail, 

Crossed the waters where the many mansions be, 
But they left a presence here. 

Personality, so clear. 

Where in silence, seems the soul whispers to me. 


[ 93 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


VOICES 

Suggestive murmurs of unseen winds 
Stirring the grass and leaves 
Bringing again those memories fair 
Starting a pain that blinds. 


[ 94 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


TEACH ME TO DIE THAT 
I MAY LIVE 

Teach me to die that I may live, to serve Thee 
evermore and give 
Thee praise. 

To me says Paul to live is Christ, 

To die is gain forevermore. 


I love to live, to walk abroad, 

To see the sun, to take the road, 

That wanders by the rippling stream 
Or sit on banks, where grasses green 
Where flowers sweet, their scented breath 
Tell me of glories after death. 

I love the homes, where faces sweet, 
Betoken welcome, ere we greet — 

The woodland trails the flowery ways 
The memories of other days 
The sweet companionships, her eyes 
That said, “Meet me in Paradise." 


[ 95 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

I love the roses, though they fade, 
All nature hath God’s laws obeyed 
And so let's ban September morn. 

Be like the rose and not the thorn 
Pray God to teach us how to die 
Be worthy of the boys who lie 
In Flanders Fields. 


[ 96 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE BEAVER VALLEY 
To T. H. Orton, M. D. 

Down behind the hidden village, fringed around by 
cedar trees, 

Like a monk with rod a-fishing, dreamingly and all 
at ease, 

One who seeketh quiet rivers, for the rippling music's 
thrill, 

Sleeping, murmuring, in its visions lies the valley’s 
shady rill; 

Trickling o’er the limestone mosses, through the 
brightest summer days, 

Like the golden sunset beaming, as it struggles 
through the haze, 

Falls a foaming rill of water, clear as silvery ocean 
tide, 

Till it foams into the river, to unite and onward 
glide. 


[ 97 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

When the rising moon of even, climbed in yonder 
eastern arch, 

Shooting rays of silvery paleness through the birches 
and the larch, 

And the whip-poor-will sat piping on a slender 
willow bough 

While the leaves of giant poplars, caught the wind 
and made it sough, 

And the crickets in the meadow raised their melan¬ 
choly note, 

And the bullfrogs in the valley, struck their many 
voiced croak, 

There I formed a lasting friendship, as I packed up 
rod and line 

For we stole a day of pleasure, and our Souls did 
there entwine. 

Thus I gained the Soul of Orton as I shook him by 
the hand; 

And our paths now lie together as our footprints on 
the strand, 

Here we’ll worship nature’s beauty, and the old 
Canadian band 

Till our names from earth have vanished, like the 
writing from the sand. 


[ 98 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


EUGENIA FALLS 

Where the mists of time have gathered. 

In Eugenia's cool vale. 

And the rocky walls point heavenward 
From the clinging lichen trail; 

Where the limestone mountain rises,— (1765 feet) 
'Cross the vision's mist blue haze 
As I stand within the cooling. 

Of the rising wind swept sprays. 

Near a perfect cedar grove that clings 
To rocks worn old and grey 
With the golden sunset glinting 
All the bluffs at eve of day: 

Where the sifting, drifting water 
Gathers foam and speed to link 
The throbbing pulse of many streamlets 
Rushing near the brink; 

With the boiling pool below me 
To my wondering gaze unfurled 
Where the Holy Spirit brooded. 

In the morning of the world; 


[ 99 ] 



Thoughts in the Great Northland 

There eternally the falling 

Of the frothy foam flecked sheen, 
Makes the slimy rock walls gleaming 
Seem a pillared mossy green. 


[ 100 ] 




Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THOUGHTS ON HURON'S BEACH 

Blue, green, and gold in the gloaming 
With the sun gone down to rest 
Huron’s curled waves come a roaming 
Chasing and chasing with zest 
And the sweet lone hush that follows 
The plash of the wave and silt 
Are the seconds between the pulsing 
As the moon climbs up atilt. 

And the veil hangs on uplifted 

And we get a glimpse of the world 
The waters sink back in the shadows. 

And the shadows sink back unfurled 
Into the twilight valleys 
Where the silver pyramid 
Finds its base upon the ripples 
And its peak in the moon lies hid. 

There the world in pictured glory 
On the sands of time is met 
And we glimpse its soul’s true meaning 
For its way is always set 


[ 101 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Whence the silver light is gleaming 
Down toward the silver goal 
Till the final point is ending 
In the beaching of the soul. 

Then over the frontier silent 
And into the secret land 
Her mind goes out to fathom 
Seeking to understand. 


[ 102 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE PROFESSOR 

The preparations numerous in view, 

By which the hundred Rhea Silvias too 
Must bring forth soon by reproductive art 
The jumbled Apisthographi* * * § produced 
To them; as jotted down aversa charta; 

To metaphors, hexameters reduced. 

I wonder since those Codrusf rendered days 
When Elegos pronounced their mournful lays. 
What shades ^EacusJ may be torturing still 
What frays twixt Centaurs and Lapithae kill? 
What Monychus doth hurl both root and branch 
From literatures vast variegated ranch. 

What sweet young woman charms him in each class 
Warming his smile; is made, hores ex asse,§ 

Upon the fatal day; of all his mien 
Where nature partly hath denied the vein, 

And whom the goat driven to do his worst, 

Is sacrificed to Bacchus that his thirst, 

By wine of wrath may fully be supplied 
On that dull day, when sinners quickly slide? 

* The notes or works written on both sides of the paper. In this 
case an old envelope covered back and front by random notes and 
likewise produced to the class. 

t Codrus was rendered hoarse by shouting his poetry. 

t iEacus, the judge upon the Shades from Europe. 

§ Sole heiress. 


[ 103 ] 



Thoughts in the Great Northland 


RETROSPECT 

PART I 

“Man her last Work who seemed so fair” 

— Tennyson. 

In blessing God whose vast cosmos, 
Immovable through ages stands 
By Brooding Spirits touch Divine 
Was beautified and sanctified, 

The Soul of Man more fair than all 
A breath eternal since his fall 
Whose place is gone no more is found 
When wind of God with rushing sound 
Has passed within his humble home, 
Acknowledges His power Divine 
Who from the chaos of the void 
Did'st earth’s foundations lay in dust, 

And covered'st all with waters deep, 

At whose command they sank to sleep 
To rise in springs and feed the vale 
And flowing down where great ships sail 
And that sea beast Leviathan 
With creeping things innumerable 
Wallow in Bathybius slime 
Through all the slow events of time; 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

But chiefly doth man’s soul respond 
To work His will whose edict found 
Man’s destiny to till the soil 
His bread to eat by sweat and toil. 

All thy creation first, O God, 

Then lastly man didst thou create 
With only one soft clause in life, 

To toil till shades of evening light. 

PART II 

Man goeth forth to work until the evening. 

—Psalm 104 

The strain is off and thou art free 
The evening star still calls to thee 
And evening bell in silence sways 
While memories come of other days, 

Thus every day with toil and strife 
E’en on thy way till eve of life; 

And then with thoughts of other days 
Thy past with all its dreams and ways 
Thou shalt rememb’ring in Thy Soul 
Behold the years upon the shoal; 

And floating back from distant time 
When self is met and all that’s thine 
The world without now slips away 
The world within now holds its sway. 
Those pictures stored within the brain 


[ 105 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

Whose gallery filled with joy or pain 
Now bid us gaze with faces pale 
As memory draws aside the veil. 

It shall be light at eventide 
And in the gallery open wide, 

Shall stand the Christ the veil in twain, 
And judgment follows in His train; 
Now what is judgment but the past 
The memories gathering thick and fast 
Which weighed shall be as gold to dross 
And give some Zoe Thanatos.* 

* Lifesome death. 


[ 106 ] 



Thoughts in the Great Northland 


A VISION 

I stand amid the grey Northland 
Ridges of wavy stone; 

A vision rising from the strand, 

Arrests my wandering;—lone; 

I see the crests of yonder hills, 

Are golden, white, and brown, 

The great white rocks the valley fills, 

Like flowers beneath their frown; 

I see the phantom hosts arise, 

An endless line, a sea, 

From out the limestone’s naked sides. 
These rolling hosts so free; 

I see the shadows bathed in blue, 

All burnished like the dove, 

And through the shadows’ trembling hue, 
The swimming armies move. 

A flock of wild ducks homeward bound, 
Augment the scene, and from 

Their circling of yon lake around, 

Depict the aerial Somme. 

[ 107 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

I see the smoke of battle in 

The clouds that drift,—and list! 
I hear the noise of battle's din, 

Come rolling through yon mist. 

I see the storm roll up the strands, 
'Tis gone, and all is still, 

The vision fades in golden sands, 
Far down yon Western hill. 


[ 108 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE ANGELS REAP IN FLANDERS 

In Flanders field the angels reap 
The harvests' yield, nor oats nor wheat, 
There tired bodies only sleep, 

*And “seven spirits" vigil keep. 

We wonder if the spirits too 
Are weary when the crimson dew 
Has slowly frozen into sleet? 

If so then death should not be sad 
Perchance the spirits really glad 
To soar away so lightly clad? 

Perchance the seed is gladly sown 
Where guns plow up the rich red loam 
That we may gather here our own? 

* “Revelation prophecy.” 


[ 109 ] 



Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THOUGHTS OF THE NORTHLAND 

And e’en amid these lonely things 
There’s always, something, something sings. 

The music of a voice we know 
The memories of a presence fair 
And e'en amid the brighter glow 

When days slip by, we still can share 
In heart and thought God's music there. 


O great Northland in solitude, 

I vision that Thou’st kept so long, 

O land of wond'rous rocky waves, 

And serried pines so strong. 

Through silent years, that now are gone, 
You kept your lovely face unmarred 
From peak to vale, from hill to dale, 
From lake to mossy sward. 


[ 110 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

E’en now I seem to see a glimpse. 

Of all thou wert in days now grey. 

Thou holdest yet a waking dream, 

Time has not dimmed, nor may, 

O land of countless solitudes, 

What hast thou done with all the past? 

O give us just a passing view, 

Spirit of nature at the last. 

Old friends, old scenes, all pass away, 

Who knows? these friends, these scenes, for aye, 

May rendered be, new visioned leave, 

At least a memory. 


And e’en amid these lonely things 
There’s always, something, something sings. 

The music of a voice we know 
The memories of a presence fair 
And e’en amid the brighter glow 

When days slip by, we still can share 
In heart and thought God’s music there. 


[Ill] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


REMEMBER NOT 

Remember not my grave in that torn land 
Nor linger gazing on my wooden cross 
Where flowers have dared to bloom afresh and toss 
Their perfumes over Belgium's dune capped strand. 

'Twas but a harvest swiftly gathered in 
Amid the catchy storms of shot and shell 
It may be now I'm in some trail worn dell 
Where there is neither suffering nor sin. 

Remember not my place beneath the trees 
All torn and twisted like this piece of clay 
It may be now comes floating on the breeze 
A thousand sweets of woodlands far away. 

’Twas but the falling of the autumn leaves 
Maples with purpled green, orange, and gold 
And maybe they’re glowing a thousand fold 
Through the dawning mists of the mountain eaves. 

Remember not my form beside the fire 
Nor gaze through misted eyes at other days 
When Nature played her native wind-swept lyre 
And love walked with us down the vine-clad ways. 

[ 112 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

’Twas but a tasting of the days to be 
Love that gave delight on our winding way 
Maybe I am tasting things I cannot say 
Dreamily gazing ’neath the heavenly tree. 


[ 113 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE STORM 

Crowded clouds like peaks arising, 

On some distant mountain range, 
Crowned and uncrowned in the setting 
Of the day about to change. 

Cloud on cloud in wild profusion 
With a glowing light between 
Rolling, thundering, darkening, closing, 
Out the glory of the e’en. 

Now the flitting martins gather 
Rising from the sandy plains, 

And I watch the golden plover. 
Winging home before it rains. 

Comes a gentle breeze disturbing 
All the calm that was before, 
Ruffling Huron’s glassy waters, 

Piling silt upon the shore. 

Now the breeze begins to stiffen. 
Heavy laden as of yore, 

Then a mist hangs like a curtain, 

And it rains upon the shore. 


[ 114 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

So the clouds of life have gathered 
One by one upon life's sea, 

And its golden sky has darkened 
And the storm rolls over me. 

I have watched my friends departing 
Like the plover from the shore, 
But the clouds are full of blessings, 
And refreshings, evermore. 


[ 115 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


LOST TRAILS 

I see within the gallery of 
My picture crowded brain 
The trails of other youthful days 
Come floating back again. 

As o’er my crowded life there comes 
A moment wrought with strife 
When trails have petered out before 
The desert sands of life. 

I cannot turn and trace the steps 
I took among the trails 
And yet to wander forward still 
My heart within me fails. 

I do not know how far the paths 
Of life I’ve travelled o’er 
I only feel I’m reaching out 
And wandering more and more 

I see a ship put out across 
The ocean’s trackless main 
I know it leaves no trail behind 
For followers in its train. 


[ 116 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 

I only know that Christ in walking 
O’er the Galilee 

Did’st still the troubled consciences 
Of those he met at sea. 

And so I’ll wander on awhile 
Across the trackless deep 
I know that somewhere near the shore 
The troubled waves will sleep. 


[ 117 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


VITA UMBRATILES 

A life retired spent in the shade. 

Catching the coolness of its sun, 

As variegated as a glade. 

Where bright flow’rs bloom and streamlets run 

A life with chequered surface dark, 

As some numidian marble arc. 

That spans the fountain's waters clear, 

In thick Boeotian atmosphere. 

That wears the toga robe of peace, 

That spurns the sagum cloak of war, 

With no more faith than Osiris, 

The fictious husband of Isis. 

Roaming Isles of the southern seas. 

Basking 'neath palms in sultry breeze, 

Where cosmic perfumes float and toss, 

From flow’rs that glow with the purples of Cos. 


[ 118 ] 


Thoughts in the Great Northland 


THE SNOW 

I whirl, and sift, and eddy. 

Amid the fields of stubble, 

I’m ready, and I’m steady, 

As springs that pulse and bubble, 

Oh, I am the world’s fair bride, 

As pure as the lily’s throat, 

And Canada’s boast and pride, 

As adown the woods I float. 

I’m the Northland’s dress awhile, 

And by garments soft sweep low, 

I cover the flowers that smile, 

With blanket warm as I go. 

A thousand rays I sparkle forth, 

As the moon climbs up the steep, 

I journey on from the cold bleak North, 
And return where the world’s asleep. 


[ 119 ] 









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